Aftermath
by Ryo Hoshi
Summary: Because sometimes, things will not be neat and clean, no matter how much you might wish otherwise. Manga-based oneshot, with strong hints of LizKidPatti.


Soul Eater doesn't belong to me. Beta credit goes to Heart of Perpetual Ice, and the plot bunny is due to Nenena's wonderful works.

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_**Aftermath**__  
By Ryo Hoshi_

Liz sat there, just staring at the coffee mug. Missions with Kid were usually simple and clean—no mess except the mess caused by their battle. All they _needed_ to know was that the target had made his father's list, the broad outline of why, and none of the details.

It'd have been enough to have just known that the targets were a team of serial killers who had ended up setting up house in an old ghost town not too far away from Death City.

They'd arrived in time to see the group's latest victim. She had been tall and lean, pretty before it'd started. Beneath the blood it was possible to still tell the color of her hair, and she'd looked so pleadingly at Kid with her remaining eye once he'd finished shooting her torturers, begging for him to _just shoot me now_ so her pain would be over…

Kid almost had. Liz had felt his finger twitch on her trigger.

Instead, he'd sat with her, trying to be comforting during the woman's last moments. The expression on her meister's face when the ambulance finally arrived was still somehow surprising to her, even though she'd expected it from the moment she felt that twitch.

Some of the darker rumors about the abilities of shinigami said that they could _tell_ when somebody was dying. These were more exact than the frivolous ones which said that a shinigami could _predict_ it—only that they would know when a person's death could no longer be prevented. Liz had never wanted to ask Kid, and at that moment, she knew she never would.

They had left Kid alone while he reported in to his father, watching the growing number of people in uniform or suits arrive. One of the sheds was opened, and the stink from within was worse than the glimpse of the bodies within. Their targets had not been particular about gender.

Patti had stopped trying to cheer her sister up after that, though they both managed to keep Kid from getting a glimpse inside the shed.

They'd headed straight home afterwards. Bathed. None of them had felt like talking, not even her sister, and settled on the couch without doing more than pulling on robes.

Kid had mixed her a drink without her needing to ask. Usually she had needed to ask, too, ever since her meister had made it clear that if _she_ was to have alcohol in their house, _he_ would be the only one to serve her. Somebody not as familiar with it as she was would not have noticed that his movements were not as precise and exact as they usually were, and she thought the 'coffee' in her mug tasted different.

Patti had not seemed to even notice that Kid had poured, instead of apple juice, hard cider for her. Liz thought of the black hair and glimpse of pale skin—looking like it'd been pale even when not corpse-pale—and decided that she'd have probably not been quite as subtle in giving her alcohol.

The shinigami didn't pour himself anything. It was less because of his age than his body. Alcohol had no effect on him at all; Liz had checked. It had been impressive to see not a sign of intoxication after enough vodka mixed into his soda to send nearly anybody else under the table.

Liz supposed that it was times like this that being able to indulge in such enjoyable poisoning was missed.

Kid had settled between them, in spite of the fact that the couch was barely that instead of a loveseat. Both of his weapons were close beside him. Perhaps the greatest sign of how bothered Kid was by that day's mission was the lack of complaints when Patti half-crawled into his lap, her robe coming untied and…well, gaping did not begin to cover it.

He didn't say a thing about the ruined symmetry, instead simply touching her sister's hair.

Patti shifted a little, calming, and Liz took a sip of her drink. She leaned against Kid, and felt him relax as well.

The woman earlier still haunted her. She must have been there for days, from the color of her bruises and the dullness of her blonde hair…

"Liz?"

She blinked, having not noticed his golden eyes watching her. Liz could read concern, and…ah, she recognized that.

"Kid, that woman there…"—one blue eye staring pleadingly at them, the other side of her face a bloody ruin—""is it still bothering you, too?"

He nodded slightly, hair shading his features from view, black on pale white and his golden eyes hidden from view, looking briefly like just a young goth and not a shinigami…

Liz shuddered, and looked down at her mostly-full mug again until she felt her meister's arm slide around her waist in silent reassurance.

She smiled, relaxing and understanding why Patti found where she was so comforting.

They sat together in silence as Liz finished her drink, Patti wriggling until she was draped over both of them.

Eventually they left the couch for bed, spending the night even more tangled together, the feel of warm skin against theirs reassuring in their sleep.

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...If you think they did anything more than cuddle, your mind is in the gutter, okay?


End file.
